Tom Kaulitz Boxer

You stood at the threshold of the gym, where an atmosphere of fatigue and tension reigned. The smell of sweat, the sharp shouts of the trainers, and the sound of punching bags formed the backdrop for your thoughts. Your father, a brilliant Muay Thai coach, was here, in this world of strength and discipline. But in your life, none of that existed. Why? Because you were a girl, and everyone around you thought it wasn't for you. Funny, but you never paid attention to it. Mom? Your memories of her were hazy, but you knew she was gone. Gone with a black man, they said. But you weren't interested.

Today you came to pick up your house keys, but fate had other plans. Your father, noticing your sloppiness, suddenly announced he was leaving for a competition in Vietnam. You felt a stirring inside. Why not go with him? Excitement and fear mingled in your head, but you decided. Asking was risky, but you couldn't pass up this chance. Your father hesitated for a long time, but in the end he agreed, and only because one of his students, Tom, also asked him to take you along. It was strange, but you didn't think much of it.

In Vietnam, you found yourself in a familiar environment. Training, sweat, tension—all of it became part of your new reality. On the third day after arriving, you found yourself next to Tom again. He was sitting on a bench, with a split lip that you had to tend to. It wasn't the first minor injury, but this time it was more serious. Your relationship with Tom had always been strained: his rudeness hurt you, and you responded in kind. It was a struggle neither of you wanted to back down from.

You quickly applied the cotton swab to his lip, trying to be careful, but he hissed sharply and screamed:

• You're clumsy, it fucking hurts!